


wing it

by thunderylee



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wings, Fluff, M/M, undiagnosed ptsd from bullying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-31 09:30:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12129522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Baekhyun just needed a push off the cliff to fly again.





	wing it

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

Winged people are said to be magical, mostly because they can fly. There are so many of them that the government had to regulate the air space to keep them from crashing into each other and flying too high for safe breathing. Clothing is made with special flaps in the back to accommodate the extra appendages, much like sleeves. Winged people decorate their wings like they would their hair, dyeing them different colors and accessorizing. Some people even pierce and tattoo their wings, even though the skin there is the most sensitive on their entire body.

Byun Baekhyun doesn’t feel magical. He doesn’t show off his wings, either, keeping them folded under his shirt at all times. While they can spread out wider than he is tall, they store themselves rather compactly. This makes it easy to pretend he doesn’t have them at all. The only benefit in his opinion is the flying, though to be honest the effort isn’t often worth the convenience.

He didn’t always feel that way. As a child, Baekhyun’s feet rarely touched the ground. He flew _everywhere_ —across the hall, up the stairs, around the backyard. Since he was the only member of his family with wings, he taught himself how to fly at the young age of three. It’s very rare that winged children are born to nonwinged people, but not unheard of. Baekhyun always thought it was God’s way of making it up to him for being so small.

Then he started school, where the other students weren’t as accepting of his wings. The Byuns didn’t live in a wing-friendly area and Baekhyun was the only winged child in his school. His parents kept saying the other kids were just jealous, but even they couldn’t ignore the injuries Baekhyun would come home with, his feathers forcibly plucked and bruises all over his body. Back in that time, there weren’t many regulations on bullying, so the family was forced to move.

While it was in Baekhyun’s best interest, there was some underlying resentment from all of his family members. His father had to sell their home and buy one in a newer, more wing-friendly area in the middle of a recession. His mother has to leave her neighborhood activities and friends. His brother, Baekbeom, who was the most outspoken about his displeasure, had to leave his school and friends and start all over at a school with winged students to compete against for popularity and sports.

Even at the new school, Baekhyun didn’t show off his wings. The teachers knew he had them, because it was on his student file, but every year he would beg them not to say anything. He would always get the same lecture—”They’re a part of you, you should be proud of them”—but they would respect his wishes all the same. It was hard to hide them at first, since the nature of wings is to spread and flap, but his fear of being ridiculed won out.

He didn’t fit in with these kids anyway. His father always said that winged people were flashy, loud and outspoken, and Baekhyun wasn’t like that at all. He was quiet and studious, keeping to himself after years of torment on the playground. Whenever he gets excited or upset, his wings want to spread, so he’s learned to suppress those feelings. He doesn’t want to call attention to himself, purposely making average grades and not speaking up in class to stay as nondescript as possible.

The summer before Baekhyun’s first year of high school, a new family moves in next door. The first thing Baekhyun notices is that they don’t have wings; the second is that the son is incredibly tall. He towers over even his father as they unpack boxes and if he wasn’t a spitting image of his mother and sister, Baekhyun would think they’re not even related.

Mama Byun is so thrilled to have neighbors who aren’t winged people that she rushes over to greet them and becomes instant friends. The Parks have moved here from the city due to the father’s new job, of which everyone in the family seemed to be supportive. The daughter, Yoora, is three years older than Baekhyun and in her last year of high school, and the son, Chanyeol, is several months younger than Baekhyun but the same school year.

Naturally, Baekhyun is given the task of helping the Park kids adjust to their new school, which he does begrudgingly. Yoora and Chanyeol are nice enough, if not just as loud and flashy as the winged students at his school. They fit in more than Baekhyun does, instantly making friends and joining clubs. Chanyeol asks him if he thinks it’s weird that a boy wants be a cheerleader, and Baekhyun shakes his head no. He ends up going to every football game for the next four years just to watch Chanyeol toss winged and nonwinged girls into the air in elaborate formations that look super cool since he’s so tall.

That’s not all Chanyeol does with the girls, which puts a wedge in their friendship around junior year. He keeps trying to set Baekhyun up with their friends, but Baekhyun isn’t interested in getting close to anyone like that. Going through puberty without everyone in school finding out about his wings was bad enough. He wouldn’t be able to hide them from a potential lover. His brother had warned him about friends drifting apart in favor of romance, so Baekhyun was prepared for it. That didn’t stop him from being sad for the few months at a time when Chanyeol would rather spend time with someone else than him, feeling so far away despite living just next door. It was the only time he let his wings out, in the privacy of his own room to envelop him and help alleviate his sadness.

After graduation, Baekhyun has no choice but to go to college and make something of himself since he’s already caused his family so much trouble. They’re great people and he knows they love him, but they have already had to sacrifice so much in order for him to get an education. He follows Chanyeol to art school, where they room together and make up for the last few years of distant friendship. It’s even more difficult for Baekhyun to hide his wings from a roommate, and more than once he considers telling Chanyeol about them, but he can’t bring himself to say the words.

He ends up not having to worry about it when he fails out his first semester. It turns out art is not something that Byun Baekhyun excels at. Nor is music, or dance, or anything else this school teaches. He can sing and play the piano well enough, but there’s not much of a future in that. He moves back home feeling like even more of a disappointment than if he hadn’t gone to college at all, but his mother just hugs him and says it doesn’t matter what he does for a living as long as he’s happy. He’s not happy, not by any means, but he tells her he’ll try his best anyway.

For the next couple years, Baekhyun tries. He applies for temp jobs that sound moderately interesting in hopes that they will turn into full-time careers. He works in a bakery, a restaurant, a repair shop, and several offices. His coworkers and managers love him because he’s a quick learner and will do whatever he’s asked. There is just no permanency in any of the positions. They all believe he’s destined for something greater and send him on his way when the jobs are complete.

Sometimes, Baekhyun thinks he’s destined for something greater, too. He just doesn’t know what it is.

When Chanyeol graduates from art school, it’s also with a teaching license. Chanyeol loves children and wants to teach them how to express themselves artistically. Baekhyun can’t think of anybody who would be happier dealing with a large group of children making a big mess with art supplies. Chanyeol’s first day as a teaching assistant at the local elementary school earns him a paint-splattered smock and a gigantic smile. Baekhyun’s spirits are uplifted just looking at him.

After only one semester, Chanyeol is hired on full time and moves out of his parents’ house. Baekhyun prepares himself to be alone once again, but Chanyeol surprises him by leasing a two bedroom place.

“I want you to live with me.”

“Why?” Baekhyun asks, amazed. “I don’t even have a job.”

Chanyeol just shrugs. “I enjoyed rooming with you in college. You’re not doing anything else, are you? You can still do nothing living with me.”

It’s logic that Baekhyun can’t refute, so he packs his bags and sets up the second bedroom in Chanyeol’s apartment as his own. It doesn’t feel like his home, at least not at first, especially since Chanyeol pays for everything. He doesn’t harass Baekhyun about getting a job; in fact, Chanyeol seems to like having Baekhyun there when he gets home from work, ready to hear about his day over whatever culinary dish Baekhyun had decided to try out. Baekhyun’s not bad at cooking, they learn, and he really likes the way Chanyeol smiles at him when something he makes tastes really good.

Baekbeom teases them about being married, and after a few months, Baekhyun’s not sure what the difference is.

“I have to tell you something,” Baekhyun says one day in the middle of dinner, his heart racing. His wings twitch against the back of his shirt because they want to come out, have wanted to come out for weeks, maybe years. Despite spending over half of his life hiding them, they don’t want to stay confined anymore.

Chanyeol pauses mid-slurp, lifting his big eyes to Baekhyun in worry. Today had been clay sculpturing, so his skin is tinted grey in odd spots like behind his ear and to the left of his nose, making him look like a confused zombie. Finally, he bites the noodle in half, rushing to chew and swallow before giving Baekhyun his undivided attention.

“Are you dying?”

“What?” Baekhyun asks, his wings twitching even more at the unsolicited concern. “Where did that come from?”

“It’s the worst possible thing you could tell me,” Chanyeol says, the relief shining on his morbidly claymationed face. “Now whatever you say won’t be nearly as bad.”

“I have wings,” Baekhyun blurts out, the appendages tingling at finally being acknowledged. “I was born with them, but nobody else in my old neighborhood had them so I kept them hidden. Nobody in my family has them, either. I’m sorry for lying to you all this time.”

Chanyeol blinks. “You didn’t lie to me. I never asked you if you had them.”

“Oh…” Baekhyun frowns at the lack of response. “You’re not mad?”

“Of course not!” Chanyeol exclaims, like being mad at Baekhyun is the most unfathomable thing in the universe. “Besides, if you’re a liar, then so am I, because I knew the whole time.”

“You knew?” Baekhyun’s more amazed than embarrassed. “How did you know? I was so careful!”

“You were!” Chanyeol assures him. “So careful that I thought they must have been wrong. Your mom told my mom, who told my noona and me in confidence. We weren’t to mention it to you. Honestly, after a while I forgot all about it, and over the years the world became such a better place for people with wings that I just filed it away as one of your characteristics, like how you tilt your head cutely when you’re listening or how your ears are pointy.”

“My ears are not pointy,” Baekhyun grumbles, reaching up to cover his ears.

“They are, and there’s nothing wrong with that,” Chanyeol goes on, fanning his own ears with his hands. “Look at mine! They stick out so much that I probably don’t need actual wings to fly. The kids at my old school called me Dumbo. You were the first person I met who didn’t comment on them.”

“I would never comment on someone’s physical features after being ostracized for mine,” Baekhyun says quietly. “Even if you could fly with your ears, it would be exhausting. They’re way too small to hold your weight.”

Chanyeol bursts out laughing. “I’m twenty-two years old, and you are the first person who has ever said my ears are too small for anything.”

“I’ve forgotten what it’s like to fly,” Baekhyun thinks out loud. “My wings are cramped from being folded up for so long. I’d probably fall right on my face if I tried.”

“Can I see them?” Chanyeol asks, looking timid for probably the first time in Baekhyun’s memory. “I mean, you don’t have to show me, of course. I’m just curious about what yours look like. I saw them move around under your shirt once while you were sleeping in the dorm. It was so fascinating.”

Baekhyun feels his face heating up, though he’s not sure why. “Good thing you already knew about them or you might have thought there was an alien coming out of my back.”

They both laugh at that, both a little harder than necessary. Baekhyun’s incredibly nervous about this whole conversation, but he’s not sure about Chanyeol. Perhaps Chanyeol feels weird about asking to see Baekhyun’s wings? There’s really no reason he can’t. Wings aren’t private things—how could they be, with winged people displaying them everywhere? Somehow, though, it feels like Chanyeol had just asked him to drop his pants.

“I’ll be right back,” Baekhyun says, abandoning the rest of his dinner to disappear into his room. It takes him a while to find what he’s looking for, and the relief he feels when his wings fit neatly through the extra sleeves is enough to make him sigh out loud. It’s like stretching after a long car trip, both arms and wings lifting to wake up the muscles that don’t usually get a workout.

When he opens his eyes, Chanyeol’s standing in his doorway. “Sorry,” he breathes. “I heard you and thought you might be in pain, but…”

His eyes drift behind Baekhyun’s shoulder and Baekhyun’s wings retract, folding up as quickly as they’d extended. They’re still out, trembling at the scrutiny, but Baekhyun stands tall. He won’t hide them anymore, at least not around Chanyeol.

“They’re beautiful,” Chanyeol says, leaning up on his toes to see them better. “Can I come closer?”

“Yes.”

Chanyeol steps forward and Baekhyun shivers, wavering in his stance. He doesn’t think his wings are that much to look at, a natural tint of light blue instead of some of the crazy dye jobs the kids do these days. No tattoos and no piercings, his feathers likely matted and gross from the severe lack of grooming. Yet Chanyeol looks at them like they’re ephemeral, a vision from God themself or something equally as ridiculous. Baekhyun doesn’t hate the way Chanyeol’s eyes soften as he gets closer, not one bit.

“You can…touch them, if you want,” Baekhyun finds himself saying. “Nobody’s touched them other than my mother, and that was when I was a baby.”

“Why is it okay for me to touch them, then?” Chanyeol asks.

Baekhyun shrugs. His wings shrug with him. “They like you.”

If that’s a strange thing to say, Chanyeol doesn’t mention it. He’s dated winged people before, so none of this is new to him. It’s not like this would be his first time touching wings.

But it’s his first time touching _Baekhyun’s_ wings, and the first time Baekhyun’s wings are being touched in two decades. Chanyeol lifts his hand slowly, resting his wrist on Baekhyun’s shoulder for some sense of familiarity before extending his fingers. Backhyun feels the first brush of fingertips against his feathers and shudders with his whole body, just as shocked as Chanyeol is when the latter pulls back like Baekhyun had burned him.

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol gasps. “Did it hurt?”

“No, it didn’t hurt.” Baekhyun can’t quite catch his breath. “It’s okay.”

“‘It’s okay’ you can keep going or ‘it’s okay’ please don’t do it again?” Chanyeol asks.

Baekhyun inhales sharply. “The first one.”

“Maybe you should sit down,” Chanyeol suggests, already at Baekhyun’s side to guide him back toward his bed. Baekhyun feels the backs of his knees hit the mattress and sits back blindly, trusting Chanyeol not to let him fall. He doesn’t fall, sitting on his soft covers that are still a mess because he never makes his bed.

Chanyeol sits next to him. “If it hurts, tell me to stop.”

“I will, I promise.”

The next touch isn’t as strong, but just as intimate. Baekhyun trembles openly, his wings twitching at the contact as Chanyeol drags his knuckles along the feathers, gently separating them. “So soft…” he murmurs.

“I guess,” Baekhyun says. “Feels nice.”

“Yeah?” Chanyeol asks, and Baekhyun nods. “Will you spread them for me?”

The wings answer on their own, stretching up and out to their full length. They’re longer than Chanyeol’s arms, but he walks from side to side to run the palm of his hand gently around the whole perimeter. When he reaches the the spot where Baekhyun had been injured as a child, Baekhyun jerks and is already shaking his head when Chanyeol glances over in concern.

“Kids at my old school,” Baekhyun explains, his breath coming in spurts. “Pulled out my feathers, left a scar…it’s more psychological than anything, really. I doubt you can even see it anymore.”

Chanyeol kneels down at the bedside, studying the underside of Baekhyun’s wing where he had just been touching. “It looks like there are feathers missing here. Do they not grow back?”

“No, they don’t,” Baekhyun answers.

“I didn’t know that.”

Baekhyun opens his mouth to elaborate, to tell Chanyeol about implants and other options for winged people who lose their feathers, but then those fingertips are pressing against that spot again, so gently that Baekhyun would hardly notice if it didn’t send his entire system into a whirl.

“Does that hurt?”

“No.”

“You never told me you were bullied.”

“I didn’t tell you a lot of things.”

“Tell me now. Tell me everything.”

Baekhyun looks down at Chanyeol for probably the first time ever, but it only lasts until Chanyeol stands up and sits on the bed. His hands don’t leave Baekhyun’s wings, carefully fluffing his feathers as they make their rounds from base to tip. Baekhyun wonders if it always feels this nice, or if it’s just because it’s Chanyeol.

Either way, it’s easier to open up, starting when he was young and excited even though his father wasn’t happy to have a winged son. Chanyeol listens, offering a laugh or a scoff depending on the situation, uncharacteristically silent through Baekhyun’s story. Since the first moment they met, on the front lawn of the Parks’ new house almost ten years ago, it’s usually Chanyeol chatting while Baekhyun listens, and now the situation is reversed. Baekhyun doesn’t think he’s ever spoken so much at one time, even during his temp gig at a radio station a few years back.

It should feel uncomfortable to recount the abuse he suffered as a child, but somehow it’s therapeutic to talk about it now. Maybe he should have talked about it long ago, maybe he would have felt better way before now. Maybe if he’d told Chanyeol about his wings when they’d first become friends—which Chanyeol had apparently already known about anyway—things would have been different. Baekhyun could have been loud and excitable too, flying everywhere like he had when he was young. He could have been as chatty and flashy as Chanyeol. His whole demeanor would have been different.

“Then I met you,” Baekhyun says, seguing into the part of his life he likes to remember. “And the rest is history.”

“Do you think you’ll fly again?” Chanyeol asks, his voice groggy from not being used for the better part of an hour.

“Hopefully,” Baekhyun answers. “If my memories serve me well, I really enjoyed it a lot.”

“I’d like to fly with you,” Chanyeol says. “I know it’s not allowed, but we don’t have to go anywhere far. Just around the house, maybe. We’ll go visit our parents or something, use their yards.”

“Okay,” Baekhyun agrees. “There’s no way I could carry you anyway. You’re too tall!”

Chanyeol laughs, abandoning Baekhyun’s wings to ruffle his hair. “I’m glad you finally told me.”

“So am I,” Baekhyun admits. “My wings were ready to break out of the back of my shirt! Ever since we started living together, they keep wanting to come out.”

“Hmm.” Chanyeol flashes a goofy grin. “I wonder why that is.”

Baekhyun looks at him pensively. “Are you being sarcastic?”

“ _Maybe_ ,” Chanyeol sing-songs. “Let’s finish dinner.”

Baekhyun’s wings fold dejectedly, saddened by the lack of physical attention now that they’re finally allowed to be free, and they return to the dinner table. It feels so weird to sit and eat with his wings openly visible, flapping aimlessly as Chanyeol heats up their plates. For a few moments, the only sounds coming from either one of them are unattractive slurping, and Baekhyun feels more at home than when he lived with his parents.

“Will you…” Baekhyun asks after the dishes are done and they’re heading into the main room to settle down with the TV. “Will you touch them again?”

“I’ll touch them forever,” Chanyeol answers firmly. The blatant admission is not wasted on Baekhyun, who finally realizes what Chanyeol had been evasive about earlier. It’s the kind of realization that should smack him in the face, but after such an emotional release it more or less just caresses his cheeks lovingly.

Sitting on the couch with wings isn’t that comfortable (winged people usually sit on pillows or buy seats with an open back), but Chanyeol tugs on his sleeve and the next second has him slumped against Chanyeol’s side, one arm around his shoulders to give his wings some space to breathe. Long fingers stroke his feathers and Baekhyun sighs, paying zero attention to whatever Chanyeol puts on the TV.

“I think I wanna go back to school,” Baekhyun says a while later. “Make something out of myself.”

“What brought that on?” Chanyeol asks, speaking into Baekhyun’s hair. “Getting bored playing housewife for me?”

Baekhyun snorts. “I know the world isn’t as bad as it was when we were kids, and it’s much easier for our kinds to coexist now, but I want to do something to help make it even better. I don’t quite know what that is yet, but maybe college will help me find it.”

“Your first step is to stop segregating us in your mind,” Chanyeol points out. “We’re all human. You just have wings and I don’t.”

“You’re right.” Baekhyun leans back and smiles up at him. “You’re so smart, Chanyeollie.”

Chanyeol drops a kiss to his forehead, which makes Baekhyun feel warm all over. Chanyeol’s never kissed him before, but then again they don’t usually cuddle like this either. They’ve leaned on each other while watching TV many times, but this is much more intimate than that. This is an embrace of lovers.

“You’re smart, too, you know,” Chanyeol tells him. “I thought you were just shy in high school, but you held back because your bullies made you think you didn’t deserve success and happiness. Don’t hold back in college, okay? Let everyone know how smart and talented you are.”

“I feel much braver now,” Baekhyun says, his wings flapping their agreement. “I don’t have anything to hide anymore.”

“Good.”

“Thanks to you.”

Chanyeol doesn’t say anything, just squeezes Baekhyun tighter. His hands have stopped moving, fingers absently playing with some feathers that feel just as nice as anywhere else he touches. Meanwhile, Baekhyun is wide awake, both mind and heart racing with all of the feelings that are darting around at the same time. Is this what it feels like to be happy? To have hopes and dreams aside from just making it through the day? Now that his secret is out, he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

There is one thing. “Chanyeol, up.”

Chanyeol whines like the big kid he is, but reluctantly gets to his feet. Baekhyun wipes the frown off his face—literally, with a wet washcloth he grabs from the bathroom to moisten the clay spots. Once Chanyeol looks like Chanyeol again, he’s at eye level.

“You’re flying,” Chanyeol says, his eyes not leaving Baekhyun’s.

“Actually, I’m hovering,” Baekhyun explains. “Flying takes much more concentration. Kind of like the difference between swimming and just treading water.”

Chanyeol kisses him. Baekhyun should have expected it, given the unusual closeness and soul sharing thus far, but he doesn’t. His breath hitches as Chanyeol takes it away from him, wet lips and warm noses pressing together as Baekhyun’s world turns rightside-up.

“What was that for?” Baekhyun jokes when he can think again. “Got a wing fetish or something? You did date some winged girls in high school.”

Chanyeol snorts so loudly it ruins the mood, making Baekhyun snicker as he takes a test lap around Chanyeol. A little wobbly, but he stays in the air.

“It’s not the wings, stupid. It’s you.”

Baekhyun falls. Chanyeol barely catches him, grabbing onto one arm and one wing. It stings a bit, but not as much as if he’d crashed into the hardwood floor. Chanyeol sets him upright and smoothes the feathers he’d ruffled, making Baekhyun’s entire body tingle. He’s back to looking up at Chanyeol from below, his wings folding neatly as though they were satisfied with the small flight they took. Or maybe they’re satisfied about something else.

“Do you believe that winged people are magical?” he asks.

“That depends,” Chanyeol answers. “Are your wings telling you something particular that you didn’t already know?”

“I think so.” Baekhyun smiles sheepishly. “I think they’re in love with you.”

“Then yes, I believe.”

Baekhyun’s swept up into another kiss, finding irony in how he feels the highest with his feet flat on the ground.


End file.
